Learning to wait

First of all, I’m so appreciative of those who read my last blog post. I’m humbled when people actually read all my random thoughts and updates. Secondly, I have survived on the subsequent comments, well wishes, emails, texts, and visits with me all the while teary-eyed as you told your own story and mentioned threads of mine. All of our stories are interwoven. You see me, you hear me, you care. It’s truly a gift.

Today is the 4^th of July. Freedom is the theme of the day. For me, it’s my “word” this year. I’ve been experiencing freedom in ways that I could not imagine – most of it has come through vulnerability. The hugest freedom has been loosening the chains of “control” in my life. I’ve been moving, slowly (sloth-pace), from the driver’s seat to the passenger’s seat. Okay, maybe I’m “riding the hump” (sorry, had to add a country phrase) or straddling between seats, but I’m moving.

I woke up this morning with just an overwhelming peace that I never thought I would fully embrace or grasp—the peace of submission, of waiting, of letting go. Some of you know bits & pieces of what is not said publicly in the blog and you can affirm the fact that God speaks tangibly to me. For me, there’s no way I could not believe because I’ve had way too many “Only God” moments, ones that leave both the believers and the non-believers stumped or with “chill bumps.” It leaves some shaking heads and shrugging, “How does this happen to you?” The beauty of it is….that I know. I know I’m loved. I know I’m created for a purpose. I have grace. I have provision.

For the past few years, I feel like God & I have had a very special roller-coaster-ride, patience-teaching, submission-inducing relationship. I’ve been able to yell back, rest, cry, throw things, high five, laugh, question—all the while knowing I’m loved beyond measure, taken care of, and will continue to be taken care of. I’m infuriated by the Christian-ease shown when people show real human emotions. I am enraged with hearing “give it to God,” “if you’re worrying, you’re not praying,” etc.  I cognitively get all those things but I appreciate my relationship which allows me to be human, the way I was created. I’m allowed to have emotions—be scared terrified, sad, angry. I’m allowed to process these AND know that I’ll be okay. I know I have a resting place that I’ll nestle in after the occasional internal emotional fight.

How did I get here? Me- the control freak, detail-obsessed, must-know-timeline beforehand to begin, do-it-quick-and-check-it-off-a-list person? Simple: Repeated tangible moments that are undeniably “Only God.”

For some reason, I woke up with one of my earliest happenings on my mind. There are many “miracle” stories in my childhood. One that played out as I woke was being in a car accident at ~21. I was driving home via “back roads” from Alabama to Mississippi after a hair appointment. For months earlier, I had been thinking that I should learn the names of roads in case of emergency (at this time, we had recently gotten all roads renamed/named for the 911 system). I came around a curve in the road to see a car in my lane. It was a woman driving, and her child was standing in the seat next to her (don’t even get me started…). There was no way I could hit them in any way. My first thought was the child. I swerved and missed. No biggie—until I went to get back on the road. My car hit loose gravel and I began to swerve from one side of the road to the other, quickly losing control of the car. At that moment, I felt the spin. I could see flashes of trees, houses, familiar landmarks. I felt the car slide up a slight embankment. Those few seconds felt like an eternity. For some reason, logic kicked in. I held my legs close to the seat (flashbacks of broken legs from locked legs extended to the pedals from in auto safety classes in school), took my feet off the pedals, gripped the stirring wheel, and held on. I felt the car go up and then start to flip. One of my worst fears was slowly (although I’m sure quickly) being lived. Then, it was realized. The car flipped and rested, upside down. My first thoughts were to get out—I’d be so upset if I was okay and then the car caught on fire or something. I had no idea what the condition of the car was like on the outside. I unbuckled my seat belt and fell face down on my opened bible that had fallen out of the glove box (1 regret in life? not looking at the passage!). I couldn’t orient myself to get the passenger door open – who’s used to opening the door from upside down? I called 911. I didn’t freak out until she said “Where are you?” and I couldn’t answer. What were the names of those roads??!?! I couldn’t read the small sign from so far away. I tried to explain where I was in terms of landmarks and other major roads. Reality hit when she said “Don’t worry ma’am, we are looking for you.” I knew she had no idea where I was. This is a low traffic area in this time of day as well so I knew that no one was coming quickly. Suddenly, two guys that looked like convicts (understatement) drove up. I panicked. But, reluctantly I engaged them. I asked them to simply open my door so I could crawl out. They did. I was thinking “now what?” so I remained on the phone with the 911 operator (God bless these people). I joked and told them if they had anything to hide then they may want to get on down the road as the highway patrol was on the way. I kid you not, they bolted like a flash of lightning. By this time, I was able to read the cross streets and emergency personnel were on the way. The volunteer fireman from down the street showed up. I asked him to please cancel any ambulance and have only the highway patrol arrive. He did but I heard him on the phone—“I think she’s okay. She looks okay. She wants to cancel the ambulance so her dad doesn’t get billed for an unnecessary ride. She’s making jokes.” Because of my “kookiness” from being so freaking glad I was “okay” they assumed I had a head injury. The volunteer fireman said he didn’t want to come to the scene after the call because that “curve gets everyone” and “most people wrap themselves around the tree.” You see, I missed the trees. My car slid right through, hitting nothing. I had no scratches. No glass broke. I didn’t hit my head during the spinning and flipping. I was the first person in an accident per his knowledge that wasn’t seriously injured. Purpose? I knew I had one. This moment was loud for me. Provision? Although it wasn’t my first taste of it, it was my most flavorful.

Most of this “learning” however began with my visa journey. I had only so much control. I could control submitting paperwork and some details. My attention to detail and organization could shine in the execution of paperwork. The rest—approvals, dates, requests for additional info (the important stuff)—was out of my control. We worked by a timeline that either caused feelings of elation or desperation. None of it was “approximate.” All in all, most of our steps were completed or approved in 50% of the time expected which is what I prayed for. The ones that weren’t, however, were very delayed. Actually, I prayed for a quick trip through this dreaded timeline but I also wanted our story to be a reflection of God’s presence in our relationship and to highlight things that only He could do.

I’ll share one of those moments that was one of the most profound for us. Luba’s police clearance was delayed. It was our final piece of paper before a last submission to the embassy to get scheduled for an interview. Calls were made. In turn, false promises were made. More calls were made. More promises were made. No police clearance came. Emotions were beyond definable at that moment—we could do nothing, nothing but pray. Our friends & families prayed.  Luba was working with the police academy and set out for an assignment that was changed at the very last minute. Instead, he was to take a couple people to the airport. Of all of the people that could have landed in the back seat of the car, she was the ONE we needed. She could assist us with our missing paperwork. She was a high government official and in charge of this very thing. She heard our story. She exchanged personal information with Luba. By the beginning of the next week, it was in the mail to us and we were on our way. (Long story short: she saved us from waiting for paperwork that was never coming without some bribery & corruption involved and months of delay). At that moment, I began to really set up camp and rest in a verse that had been shared with me by my friend April Diaz much earlier:

For the revelation awaits an appointed time;
    it speaks of the end
    and will not prove false.
Though it linger, wait for it;
    it will certainly come
    and will not delay.

Habakkuk 2:3

When my medical journey began, I started out again as who I’ve always been. I had to mentally run through a timeline with steps to “get this tumor out.” Again, everything was already lined up and revealed little by little. It was proven yet again that His ways are better than mine. Had I gone by my course of action, which was logically and medically sound in nature, I’d have the tumor out now but would definitely have some permanent neurological effects. The surgeons were not trained and appropriate for my case. I would have entrusted my voice to sub-par physicians and surgeons all the way around. I had trusted them, and they had been wrong – all of them. I was reminded of Habakkuk 2:3 each time a delay occurred—insurance mishaps, that yucky feeling in the pit of my stomach knowing something wasn’t right, the anesthesiologist on the case that urged me to get a 2^nd opinion even though surgery was scheduled, the ENT who is a specialist and told me to wait, the fight with insurance. It even occurred as the #1 surgeon (out of state) for this rare tumor contact ME to be of assistance after he read a Facebook post. Seriously? He contacted ME after I had researched him online, wished for his opinion, and gave up the thought of contacting him when I didn’t find an email address online. The very next morning, I woke up to a message from him which included his email address and some confirmation of questions (& second guesses trying to push in) that had been racing through my mind. A few months ago, I was grasping for any date for surgery. I rushed. Today when you ask me when surgery is, you get a nonchalant shrug and “Dunno.” I know it’s going to be scheduled on the right day. The right surgeons are going to be there. I’ll have my posse praying through every minute of the surgery. I will be okay.

A few weekends ago, I went to my all time favorite women’s conference in LA. I go every year. It sustains me until the following year. This year, the theme was “Be Brave.” “Brave” was a word I had been thinking through for weeks so I knew it was going to be good. And it was. One speaker, who is a Grammy-winning recording artist, recounted his experience of having vocal fold damage during intubation during surgery. It was refreshing to see him back up and singing, albeit different than before the surgery, and still living his purpose. He was there for all of us, but I knew he was specifically there for me.

One thought kept resounding in my soul all weekend:

I’ve given you a voice—what makes you think I’d take your gift?

You’ll speak louder after; your territory will be enlarged.

It is done.

I believe it. It’s mine. I claim it. I hold on to it. I wait for it. The right time will come and it will not be delayed.

Love,

Danielle 

Choosing JOY!

It’s been a roller coaster ride for the past few months with the medical fiasco (HMO nightmare), work, finishing my behavior analysis fieldwork, studying for the boards in May (I signed up because I’m not busy at all?) and finishing wedding planning on top of "regular life stuff." Just listing all that makes me exhausted. Exhausted on top of exhausted.  It can be overwhelming at any given time—enough to send you into a flurry of unhealthy emotions, so much that you spiral and can’t figure out just how or where you started. Recently, I had had enough. Although I’m wading through one of the worst seasons of my life, I had been unknowingly allowing the best season to be eclipsed. I’ve waited for this wedding for so long. It has been years in the making and the visa journey to get here has been and continues to be the hardest thing I’ve ever navigated.

A few months ago, I was at a loss and really at the bottom of emotions. Insurance has denied requests for what I need at every turn, including the final one this week. I've exhausted ALL of my rights with them (insert any unholy word here). Doctors were in a hurry to do surgery. I was frantic, grabbing for any hope or other option, and really any other doctors. How could I fit this in before the wedding? What if my recovery wasn’t great and I was “ugly” during the wedding? None of it was fair. I spiraled and spiraled and spiraled to the bottom. When I consulted with a second specialist (which is a miracle story in and of itself), it felt like what could only be a 15-minute conversation with Jesus. I have no doubt that this man was an instrument, providing so much more than medical opinions. His whole demeanor is gentle, kind, unassuming, and supportive. I went into that conversation a “hot mess” moving like a tornado of conflicting emotions, constantly evolving. I came out with peace like I’ve never known. The circumstances never changed and the risks and possible outcomes were further detailed. Still, there was a trust. A trust in a specialist and a bigger trust in so much more. I felt enveloped. I felt like my soul had been hugged. Laughter came back. Hope had re-emerged. A perspective had shifted.

One of the reliefs was that I could wait until after the wedding to have surgery or consider other options. I could enjoy the wedding season without fear or worry of time. I should not be rushed. I had confirmation-- I could listen to all those quiet voices within me telling me to slow down and trust more. 

Although the journey continues and the fight with insurance is like a weekly waged war, I have maintained that peace and hope. I fight with the weapons I have, but I know that God is fighting the rest for me with His. As in the last blog post here, I come back to Exodus 14:14 time and time again: “The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.” I'm not a person who waits, but I'm finding in peace in being still. 

With some aspects of life right now, I feel like I’m standing against a wall, and an unknown is throwing darts. I dodge and I miss. I celebrate each miss. I duck well. I maneuver quickly. I’m made for this and I’ve been prepared for this. I don't even like it one bit. 

Despite it all, I choose JOY. I choose to focus on the wedding despite the other unknowns. So many blog posts ago, I held on to Habakkuk 2:3 which says, “For the revelation awaits an appointed time; it speaks of the end and will not prove false. Though it linger, wait for it; it will certainly come and will not delay.” The time is now and although it felt it most times, it was not delayed. It is time to CELEBRATE. Our wedding ceremony is a tangible representation of God’s providence for both of us—His gifts—His miracles crafted especially for us and our ministry together whatever that may be.

 

True joy arises from knowing God’s faithfulness, provision, and intent for good despite the circumstances. In another long ago blog post (see here), I was reminded by “hindsight,” being able to look back on the gift God gives us. We may not know what is ahead of us, but we are able to look in the rearview mirror and see the unending instances of his provisions. For me, it is literally miracle after miracle from childhood to now. With that “history,” how can I worry about the journey ahead? I’m gifted with support. From physician connections in the strangest of ways to the kindest of office staff advocating on my behalf at the state level, things are lining up. I see it and feel it in my periphery. I understand it may not result according my desires but there’s a plan. Redemption will come. There will continue to be support. My life will continue to be a light.

 

The following verses regarding joy were brought to mind the other night and I continue to soak in them, take refuge in them, and whisper them to myself like a sweet lullaby.

 

1 Peter 1:8-9

Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls.

Romans 15:13

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Nehemiah 8:10

Do not grieve, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.”

 

Psalm 27:5-7

For in the day of trouble
    he will keep me safe in his dwelling;
he will hide me in the shelter of his sacred tent
    and set me high upon a rock.

Then my head will be exalted
    above the enemies who surround me;
at his sacred tent I will sacrifice with shouts of joy;
    I will sing and make music to the Lord.

Hear my voice when I call, Lord;

    be merciful to me and answer me.

 

Hoping that you can feel abundant joy despite your circumstances,

Danielle

Hindsight

Recently, I was on a “life high” even though it was coupled with a very deep low. I was able to make sense of a lot of “things” and dreams were being realized, miracles were being witnessed, and I was on the cusp of such huge “life things.” I remember a friend’s daughter hit a low point and I emailed her to encourage her. I was walking through some significant issues but I was at a point where hindsight was on my side and was able to try and share what I had learned over the past few years. Even though events were painful and those events seemed to eclipse the joy every now and then, I could see how God had carefully orchestrated where I was to that point. I was coming to the end of a long long long waiting period. I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. I could almost touch the finish line.

I’ve come to realize that God only grants us the gift of hindsight. Being able to look in life’s rearview mirror is enough for me to trust that, although it is difficult, foresight is unnecessary when I fully trust that God’s plans for me are so much greater than I can even fathom. I probably wouldn’t even believe it anyway if I had a glimpse into the future. I was at a point where it was easier (it’s never easy, is it?!??) to recognize how smaller events and experiences made up the larger plan unfolding like all the essential border pieces of a puzzle that help you build your structure.

Then, I hit a bump in the road. I’m careful not to post too much about the visa process as it not only involves me and it’s not solely my story to tell. I’ll just say that the bump caused me to come to a screeching halt. Screeching as in feet in the ground AND screeching out of my mouth, screeching the unholiest of vocabulary. What. Happened. Excuse me, God, we were on the “downhill slide” so I thought.

I was back on the roller coaster again. I hadn’t asked to go on another ride but I found myself soaring through ups and downs and blasting through a range of emotions. “I got this. No biggie. I trust” quickly changed to “Oh #$% it’s not in me. I can’t. I’m exhausted.”  Luckily, some amazing support people started to move and intercede on my behalf. I couldn’t do it. But God could. They could. Slowly and surely, I was back up, broken but beginning to heal from disappointment, confusion, anger, fear, and the list goes on. I realized that I had to take a dose of my own medicine--heed my own advice. I looked back at the events that led me to today. We’ve literally witnessed miracles through this visa journey. We have favor. We have been spoiled by God’s goodness. This “obstacle” is another part of our story that must happen. It’s another “let this cup pass” moment, but I know it can’t. There’s more to our story, and I know another miracle must be around the corner. I’ve asked for it, and I’m expecting it.

Along with the gift of hindsight, I’ve been able to keep trudging through the thick of waiting because of a few recurring dreams I had. When I had them (4 total), I knew they were important and I knew they were for a future time. They all had different “settings” but the events were the same. In each one, I was at an intersection and a dark road lay before me. All of the other roads were light except the one that took me “home” or to my destination. I had to walk through darkness, unable to see obstacles and unrecognizable images who sought to distract me or persuade me from continuing to my destination. I could not see how far the road stretched. In none of the dreams had I ever reached my destination. In two, I woke myself up screaming, too fearful of what grabbed at me in the darkness. In one of the dreams (3rd), a presence stood next to me as I wearily faced yet another dark road. I was exhausted. I had enough energy to muster “Not again. Not another one.”  I couldn’t put one foot in front of the other to even face the daunting challenge. The “faceless” presence told me that He would give me a glimpse of what was at the end of the road but I could not see any of the road itself. I remember seeing myself and being astonished as I watched a playful version of me in a vast ocean. I had never seen myself so happy. I was laughing like a child and overcome with joy. When I got to this past disappointment, familiarity rose from the disbelief. I’ve been here before. I can’t and won’t see the road but I know I have to keep facing forward and walk at the pace with which I am able minute by minute. I know that this path will be somewhat forgotten when I reach my destination, and I know that acknowledging and feeling it right now are crucial to my/our story. I know there’s a joy that I’ve never known and a happiness that will be new that I will experience at the perfect time. 

As usual, this brings me back to Habakkuk 2:3, a verse that I recite to myself on a daily basis.

For the revelation awaits an appointed time;

    it speaks of the end

    and will not prove false.

Though it linger, wait for it;

    it will certainly come

    and will not delay.

Are you waiting for something?

Regarding the future, I bank on Romans 8:28, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” When I need something tangible, I look in my rearview mirror.

Ever so grateful for my support "people"! You know who you are.

Danielle

A love story.....

Allow me to tell you a love story. Pull up a chair. Grab a glass of wine. I’m not sure how long it will be. But, this I promise you. As usual, I won’t bore you with just a feel-good happy ending story. Instead, I’ll expose the painful process that makes it beautiful. Beauty can be found in ashes. I know this.

This story started so long ago, long before I was even privy to the introduction. And it is still being written.  But I’ll let you glance into the pages.

This story begins with a little blonde haired, freckle-faced girl born and raised in Mississippi. She was raised in the church with a firm foundation in Jesus. She was born into a good and respectable family. She loved well and was well loved.  As the years went by, she dreamed of her future family, and husband, as many young girls do. Early on she dreamed of a family that rivaled a Benetton ad in terms of children—the seed was planted early on for adoption. She prayed for “tall, dark and handsome.” Years passed on and formidable years were spent dating, studying, and hanging out with friends. Somewhere in there, prejudices crept in. Her family raised her to judge a person by his or her character and not by highest education level or skin color. Still, she did. During those crucial years, instances and painful life experiences caused the prejudices to grab hold and fear soon ensued. For her, it was Black men. Of course, there were “exceptions” and those who were befriended but the generalities remained. Coincidentally during this time, she stopped attending church due to disbelief in the legalism and the whole “system” of religion.  

Fast forward through years of “spinning wheels” while living, learning, dating, etc. After a strong need for community and further spiritual development, she found a church that fit her needs and wants. It was in this church that she was moved to take a risk and go on missions in 2006. One trip led to another and in 2007, she took a big step and signed up to lead a team to South Africa. Never had she had this desire due to silly associations with the past. Africa had become the “origin” of pain and discomfort and she had sworn she would never step foot on that continent. However, she was obedient to the nudge and went. She instantly fell in love with the country and the people. She learned about Apartheid and heard the stories from all racial groups from an “outsider” perspective. So much of the struggles and triumphs stemming from recent integration reminded her of her upbringing in the South. In hearing stories of discrimination of Colored and Black groups, she began to see herself. As if she was looking in the mirror only to find guilt, ignorance, and shame looking back. 

She came back. She went back in 2008. She fell deeper in love with the country and the people.

She came back. She went back in 2009. She fell deeper in love with the country and the people. But this time, she fell in love with a boy. She began to see a friend there that she had met in 2007 and seen again in 2008 a little differently. Late nights she spent asking questions, hearing answers and perspectives that she never imagined, and digging deeper to find herself and discover what went wrong in her own outlooks.

She came back. It was only when back that she realized her true feelings and he, his. She dove deeper from afar but kept it safe to herself.

She went back in 2010 with another team but stayed an extra week to seek spiritual restoration and solitude. She was able to see the boy off and on and continue conversations. 

In the beginning of 2011, she went back independently to South Africa to spend more time with the boy. They wanted to be together but there were so many logistics between them, as they were worlds away. Logistics intruded far more than the ocean and miles themselves. She lost vision and gave up. She let too many opinions take her vision off what she felt and knew to be true.

The rest of 2011 and most of 2012 were dark. She felt a despair and regret that was unimaginable. She had not necessarily made decisions regarding what she felt was best for her. Instead, fear and distrust had crept in. She had doubted how big her God is and felt that she was not in alignment with where she was supposed to be. She yearned for reconciliation. Days were dark. She knew the highs of temporary “band-aids” she found to place over her wounds that kept the pain at bay for a bit. She knew the lows over another disappointment. She knew the feeling and pain of fresh hot tears that were uncontrollable. Friends knew her unpredictable emotional state.  

Although it was still sensitive, she felt the nudge to go back to South Africa although she probably would spend little to no time with the boy. But that was okay. Her first priority had always been to serve and the people that she would love while there. However, she expected the sting of familiarity without reconciliation. As months of preparation continued, changes happened with logistics. She needed a ride from the airport that would allow her to feel safe at almost midnight miles from home. She would need rides across town on weekends when she would be there.  She was forced to swallow any pride and ask the boy. He agreed to help. Worry set in. What if he didn’t show up? What if it was awkward?  She knew there were conversations that needed to be had regarding what had already happened. The word “closure” already evoked such a physiological response that it was unbearable. 

The plane ride to South Africa in November 2012 was full of emotions. What started out as excitement morphed to fear and regret as the hours passed, especially between Amsterdam and Cape Town. Waiting for the baggage was spent halved between dreading the situation on the other side and looking forward to what was on the other side. 

The boy was there, as he said he would be, on time, smile included and quick to help.

They hung out most every night after her serving activities were completed. They laughed. They continued conversations that began in 2009. He challenged her to think beyond her capacity. She felt that no time had passed. She felt as if “this” had always been. They sat in silence and just enjoyed being in the same spot in a very big world. They had dinners. The boy took her wine tasting [her love language]. They spent time with her friend Candice who came for one of the weeks. They roamed around Cape Town. They did not, however, have that closure conversation.

She came back. But, she won’t be going back this year because he will be coming here instead. A visa application and wedding planning are in the works. 

Their story is beautiful and perhaps  one of the single best love stories of all time.  It’s a beautiful story because it is not just about a boy and a girl. It’s also about a God that they both share who riddled their story with themes of reconciliation, sacrifice, forgiveness, redemption, mercy, grace, abundance, courage, and 2^nd chances. It is beautiful because we practice what He first showed to us. Hindsight can be breathtaking. Beauty from ashes. 

Even through the disappointment, she believed. Her God heard her questions. He saw her tears. He cried with her. But, he knew the timing would be best served later to fulfill a purpose together. Only He knew the plans he had for not just her, but for the both of them together. 

For still the vision awaits its appointed time;
    it hastens to the end—it will not lie.
If it seems slow, wait for it;
    it will surely come; it will not delay.

Habakkuk 2:3

Oh, and “tall dark & handsome?” Touché, God, touché.

 Cape Point: a place in South Africa where the two oceans {Indian & Atlantic} meet